Since our earliest days of dating, Jenny and I have enjoyed house “hunting.” I place hunting in quotations because, lets be real, we’ve been nowhere near affording a house for most of our relationship, and especially not the types of houses we used to tour. Did that stop us from daydreaming about the future? Nope! As undergrads in Tucson we used to get out of church on Sunday and head right up to the Catalina Foothills to scour the nicest neighborhoods for signs and and boxes with arrows directing us to open houses. Still being in dress clothes from church, we found it quite easy to slip into the façade of a well-off attorney and her eye doctor husband searching for their first home. And no, I don’t consider that lying. More of a, uh, dressing for the job you want type of thing. Either way, the realtors usually started off by giving us a suspicious once over, likely noting we were much too young to be who we said, and then hesitantly taking us on a tour of the colossal homes they were attempting to sell. We giggled and awed as we toured showers bigger than our small hybrid, closets bigger than our entire studio apartment, and houses that often looked roughly the same size as the Tucson LDS temple looming in the background. We became so adept at using these personas we’d created while house hunting that we could tour a home worth well over five times the cost of my childhood home, and then casually turn our noses up at it for being ugly. The pinnacle of our house hunting surely came when we found ourselves standing in a home with an asking price north of nine million dollars. We had a lot of fun, and those Sunday afternoons are among the fondest memories I have of our early relationship. We still love “hunting” for houses, but now we drive to slightly more realistic neighborhoods and walk around, discussing and planning a future that isn’t as far away as it once was when we started this tradition in Tucson. Occasionally, when we leave those neighborhoods and return to our small on-campus apartment I find myself pierced with a small twinge of sadness, wishing we were already in that near future we’re always talking about. Those moments pass quickly to be honest, because I love having Jenny as my partner and we really don’t need much to be happy. It’s also easy to recognize how much privilege we have, and that there’s something we possess that many in this world don’t and maybe never will:
Hope for a better financial future.
I’m not talking about hope in the sense of positive thinking or having faith. Anyone could have those things. I’m speaking of the objective reality of poverty lines, generational and otherwise, that are nearly impossible to overcome without outside help. I often think of my time in optometry school as a time of struggle, but when I really think about it there's no struggle at all. We live in a small apartment because we choose to, not out of necessity. Jenny has a good job, we both have college degrees, we have savings, and we both have numerous family members who would be there at a moment’s notice if things really went south. Our times of “struggle” sound laughable when compared to those of families I know from Puebla, Mexico or many of the people struggling right here in the United States to stay afloat. Recognizing that privilege has helped me better understand what the Savior expects of me in regard to His children.
I was reminded of my privilege again yesterday when Jenny and I drove to downtown Phoenix and walked around some neighborhoods there. We passed homeless people both asking for money and sprawled out on the streets, some of them just a block or two away from houses worth half a million dollars or more. I'm sure all of them would love to live through the "struggles" we have right now. It was an interesting sight, one I've seen many times before of course, but I was left much more pensive than usual. I think most people with a Christian background will be familiar with these Bible verses:
34 Then shall the King say unto them on on his right hand, Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world:
35 For I was an hungred, and ye gave
me meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink: I was a stranger, and ye took me
in:
36 Naked, and ye clothed me: I was
sick, and ye visited me: I was in prison, and ye came unto me.
37 Then shall the righteous answer
him, saying, Lord, when saw we thee an hungred, and fed thee? or thirsty, and
gave thee drink?
38 When saw we thee a stranger, and
took thee in? or naked, and clothed thee?
39 Or when saw we thee sick, or in
prison, and came unto thee?
40 And the King shall answer and say
unto them, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the
least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.
The pure religion taught by Jesus
here is hard to misinterpret. When we help those in need, we are really helping
Christ. The beauty of this doctrine and what it could and should mean for all
of humanity cannot be understated. If we all strived to live as Jesus taught, I’m
confident many of life’s most trying challenges could be solved.
I do, however, see a potential point
of conflict in these verses for anyone afflicted with a tendency for anxiety and
religious scrupulosity, as I often am. Exactly how much am I expected to
give? How can I know that I’m doing enough? What if I’m poor? I’ve found
the following verses from a Book of Mormon prophet named King Benjamin to be
quite helpful:
24 And again, I say unto the poor,
ye who have not and yet have sufficient, that ye remain from day to day; I mean
all you who deny the beggar, because ye have not; I would that ye say in your
hearts that: I give not because I have not, but if I had I would give.
25 And now, if ye say this in your
hearts ye remain guiltless, otherwise ye are condemned; and your condemnation
is just for ye covet that which ye have not received.
26 And now, for the sake of these
things which I have spoken unto you—that is, for the sake of retaining a remission
of your sins from day to day, that ye may walk guiltless before God—I would
that ye should impart of your substance to the poor, every man according to
that which he hath, such as feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, visiting
the sick and administering to their relief, both spiritually and temporally,
according to their wants.
27 And see that all these things are
done in wisdom and order; for it is not requisite that a man should run faster
than he has strength. And again, it is expedient that he should be diligent,
that thereby he might win the prize; therefore, all things must be done in
order.
Basically, if you don’t have enough to give, don’t give. There’s no sin in that, as long in your hearts you remain
charitable. Additionally, if you do have enough to give you should do it in
order and wisdom. You don’t need to give away all your money and it’s
okay to buy yourself and your family nice things! At least that’s how I
interpret it. I also believe it’s important to help people get on their feet in
more ways than just financial assistance, and that helping teach self-reliance
principles can be just as life-saving as any other substance we can impart.
A word of caution is important at
this point. Growing up in a fairly conservative area and spending the last ten years
in a conservative church culture, I’ve occasionally seen judgement and cruelty
justified in the name of "wisdom and order." I think on some levels it goes against our human nature to give up what we
feel we’ve rightfully earned, otherwise Jesus wouldn’t have needed to teach this
principle so much, but we could all do better in this area. We’ve all heard,
and perhaps even uttered ourselves, comments like “they’ve brought this upon themselves,
I have no sympathy for them” or the less forward but equally judgmental “I
would never ask for help from the church or the government.” To those
who feel that way about beggars and charity, King Benjamin had this to say:
17 Perhaps thou shalt say: The man
has brought upon himself his misery; therefore I will stay my hand, and will
not give unto him of my food, nor impart unto him of my substance that he may
not suffer, for his punishments are just—
18 But I say unto you, O man,
whosoever doeth this the same hath great cause to repent; and except he
repenteth of that which he hath done he perisheth forever, and hath no interest
in the kingdom of God.
19 For behold, are we not all
beggars? Do we not all depend upon the same Being, even God, for all the substance
which we have, for both food and raiment, and for gold, and for silver, and for
all the riches which we have of every kind?
Any judgement of how or why someone has gotten themselves into a certain predicament should be left to God. He has only commanded us to help where we can. We would also do well to remember that while the old ‘Give a man a fish’ proverb holds some wisdom, it isn’t an actual teaching from Jesus or any scripture at all for that matter. Jesus simply taught us to love our neighbors as we love ourselves, and we could all do a little better at that.
Jenny and I will continue to go on our leisurely strolls through nice neighborhoods for the near future and and someday we'll finally move into one of those neighborhoods (probably not the nine million dollar neighborhood, of course). I hope I can do so, however, while always remembering the privilege and fortune that got me there, and also doing my best to lift up those who haven't been as fortunate as me.
